Show me
by Sparkling Dragon Tears
Summary: Puck cuts a little too deep one night and his ma takes away his razors. Santana knows that hasn't stopped him. W: self-harm, friends keeping dangerous secrets.
1. Puck's razors

Alrighty. More angsty one-shots. Although, I plan to do a companion piece and possibly a sequel. So, I guess that doesn't really count as a one-shot, does it? Maybe I should just make them chapters... We shall see.

**D/c**: Not mine. Still. Forever. -facefloor-

**W**: Cutting, self-harm, friends keeping dangerous secrets.

Enjoy, my friends.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Santana's eyes glared holes in the back of his head during glee. He could feel it. And she hadn't even said anything while everyone else was picking on him for being unshaven. This couldn't be good.

As soon as Mr. Shue let them leave, he felt her nails digging into his forearm while she dragged him through the hallways to their secret janitor's closet. She closed them in and flicked on the light. Folding her arms over her chest, she looked him over.

"What's with the mountain man look? It's even less attractive than your mohawk." she sneered at him. But when he looked to the floor, she dropped the chill from her attitude. "Hey, seriously, what's going on?"

Without looking up at her, he whispered, "Ma took my razors."

She immediately reached out and pulled him close, letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

"What happened?" she asked after a moment. He pulled back slightly and raised his wristband-covered wrists. She carefully slid one of them down to reveal thick gauze wrapped around the tan skin. "Puck," she breathed.

"She found me in the bathroom. I cut a little too deep." He dropped his arms to his sides and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. "I begged her not to send me away. She fixed me up. Took all my razors and said if she found out I did it again, she'd send me away to get better."

Santana ran her hands soothingly up and down his arms, feeling the goosebumps on his skin.

"When was this?" she asked.

"Two days." She knew him well enough to know that he hadn't gone two days without his blades.

"How does she know you aren't doing it?" A little bit of color rose to his cheeks, but he answered anyway.

"She looks me over after I shower." Santana knew he was hiding it somewhere. She knew him.

"Show me." she demanded gently. He looked up into her eyes and she saw a slight nervousness there. He stepped back a little and glanced to the door before unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down a few inches.

"She lets me keep the towel on," he said by means of a half-hearted explanation.

Thin red lines in neat little rows decorated the skin just below his hipbones, dangerously low. The lines all looked shallow, but there were so many of them, it made Santana's heart ache for him.

"Honey," she whispered, watching him re-situate his jeans.

"If she finds out, Sarah will find out. It'll kill her if her big brother is taken away like a fucking crazy." His hands fidgeted with the armbands.

"Do you want to stop?" They had an unspoken agreement that they would tell each other their issues, would never force the other to get help, but would fully support them if they did. He seemed to think about it for a moment, before shaking his head like he always did.

Outside the closet, the pattering of feet had died away and it was like they were the only two in the world, locked in a tiny room to hide from their problems. But Santana knew they needed to get to Cheerios and football before they got in trouble, so she had to break their silence.

"Maybe she'll let you use an electric razor," she said, running her fingers over the sharp hairs on his cheek. He nodded against her soft skin.

"Maybe," he agreed. She knew he wanted more. He wanted help, he wanted to hide, he wanted to pretend nothing had happened. But it was all hidden beneath his wristbands.

Her hands slid down his arms and circled the leather cuffs, fiddling with them carefully. She sighed softly.

"Please be careful." She whispered, letting her concern show for the first time. His eyes found hers, sparking in silent challenge. He itched to spit out a comeback, but the genuine look in her eyes made him cool off. Instead, he kissed her forehead and pulled away.

"Don't worry about me." He said as flippantly as he could muster, which wasn't all that convincing.

As he turned to leave, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to her, latching her lips against his. Her teeth gently abused his lower lip and his blood started pumping harder.

Unfortunately for them, Puck's phone beeped in alert to the time and he growled, sending a shiver through her body. He kissed her deeply for a second before pulling away.

"See you tonight?" he asked, a small smirk covering his stubbly face. She nodded wordlessly, her chin and cheeks still tingling from the roughness of his facial hair.

Santana swallowed hard and watched him leave the closet without looking back. Her panties were already damp and she cursed herself, digging her nails into her palms angrily. She felt the heat of rage coiling in her chest and fear in her heart as she thought about the thick cotton protecting his wrists.

The latina left the closet, adjusting her hair and trying to calm her breathing.

Tonight? Oh, yes. Tonight they would work through their problems together. After all, what are best friends for?

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Sooooooooo... yep.

Coming soon: Santana's issues. Then maybe the both of them together. And if I like it, maybe a recovery attempt.  
Or maybe I will just leave them to suffer.  
Guess we'll see.

Let me know what you think.

Till next time,  
-J X


	2. Feel me

Note to anyone watching this: I have a companion fic up about Santana. I decided to keep them separate, but they follow the same story line. The new one is called "Feel me."

Thanks to everyone reading and reviewing.

-J X


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